


Le sang pour les luxurieux

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story: Murder House, Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Blood and Gore, Consensual Mutilation, Eye Trauma, F/F, Guro, I'm Going to Hell, Kink discovery (Kinda???), M/M, Magic healing powers and not dying from brain damage bc they're ghosts, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Skull Fucking, The triumphant return of hell fucking, They need mental help ok, Who am I kidding /I/ need mental help, gross stuff, mention of murder, this ship will never die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “First of all, we’re already dead. Pretty sure you can’t kill me again. Second of all, you’ve literally ripped my throat out semi-accidentally before and I was fine, and third of all, you know you want to.”  He said,  his eyes half-lidded as he pulled  him forward until their lips were almost touching. Tate stared back into his warm, lust-darkened brown eyes and captured his mouth in a bruising kiss that left teeth clicking together and a few drops of blood running down their chins from bitten lips.
 JD crawled into his lap until their chests were touching as they pulled their lips apart with an obscene pop.
“...Okay,” Tate breathed against JD’s panting mouth, tugging on his cherry-red bottom lip with his teeth, “Deal.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna admit... this shit is the longest, filthiest, most disturbing thing I've ever written. And of course, it's the first fic that Vironica makes an appearance it. Those two are gonna be in some other fics too! Enjoy, you heathens! Kidding kidding. Love you guys <3 (P.S- the title is still in the works)

“Hey, Tate?” JD asked as they were lying lazily in the claw-foot bathtub together, soaking out the blood and grime from their most recent murder-and-torture session into the hot water and bleeding it reddish-pink.  
“Hmm?” Tate mumbled into his hair as a way of answering, pushing his nose deeper into the damp, soap-and-iron-smelling mop of dark curls on his head. JD grinned sleepily and reached up to run his knuckles down his cheek, prompting him to sigh and press a soft kiss on his palm.  
“We should try skull fucking.” He said as casually as if he was asking for the time. Tate furrowed his brows, not bothering to open his eyes, and poked JD gently in his freckled stomach.  
“What the hell is that? It sounds...messy.” Tate said dubiously. JD snorted and leaned back onto his chest, gazing up at the steam from the water swirling up to the foggy and distant-looking ceiling and twirling a bit of Tate’s wet hair in between his fingers.  
“God damn right it's messy, and....painful. Very painful.”  
“My two favorite things. But...not like, painful for you? Because I am not going to cut a hole in your skull and-”  
JD flipped around so he was face-to-face with Tate- splashing more pinkish, soapy water onto the already flooded floor in the process- and cut him off with a kiss to the nose.  
“Well. It’s complicated, and not… exactly what you described it as.,” He hesitated, cheeks coloring slightly, “You….fucking my eye socket.” Tate’s eyebrows shot up into his dripping bangs.  
“Why would we- you could die, that’d hurt like hell- actually now that I think about it that’s kinda hot and increasingly tempting- b-but I wouldn’t hurt you like that, I love you.”  
JD flushed even brighter but smirked coyly.  
“First of all, we’re already dead. Pretty sure you can’t kill me again. Second of all, you’ve literally ripped my throat out semi-accidentally before and I was fine, and third of all, you know you want to.” He said, his eyes half-lidded as he pulled him forward until their lips were almost touching. Tate stared back into his warm, lust-darkened brown eyes and captured his mouth in a bruising kiss that left teeth clicking together and a few drops of blood running down their chins from bitten lips. JD crawled into his lap until their chests were touching as they pulled their lips apart with an obscene pop.  
“...Okay,” Tate breathed against JD’s panting mouth, tugging on his cherry-red bottom lip with his teeth, “But only if we get you high as fuck and drunk off your ass first.”  
“Deal.”  
• • • • • • • •  
All Veronica and Violet had wanted to do was snuggle up in a blanket pile together, watch some shitty ‘Sharkado” marathon on TV and maybe take a nap while pretending they weren't housemates to both of their terrible ex-boyfriends. No such luck.  
Veronica had mostly forgiven JD for what he’d done to her- y’know, almost blowing up their damn high school and indirectly causing her actual death- but she still couldn’t help the sour look and bitter tone she took on whenever he walked into a room. It helped that she’d found Violet, a literal angel (well, ghost) of a girlfriend who provided comfort, a great deal of alcohol, and a depressingly similar tragic backstory. Her aforementioned angel girlfriend was asleep on the couch next to her, so she missed the rather alarming sight of the boys bursting into the living room, Tate tugging along a very high-looking and slightly drippy JD into the big armchair across from where they were seated. They both flopped into the chair laughing, JD rolling off the side like a deflated balloon with arms.  
“Eyyy, ‘Ronie ad Vi!” He mumbled, poking Tate in the side and looking up at him expectantly. He pulled JD off the side of the armchair with a bemused smirk and glanced at them apologetically, Veronica glaring at him venomously and Violet still buried in a fluffy woolen mound.  
“What do you want, guys.” She asked shortly, slipping a protective arm around Violet’s limp, quietly snoring form as a subliminal message.  
Tate opened his mouth as if to answer, then paused hesitantly, shifting in his shared seat uncomfortably.  
“Well- we’re doing… a thing,” He said carefully, mulling over how to phrase it. JD butted in with a childish snicker.  
“We- we- we’re gonna- fuck- haha-” He broke off mid-sentence and dissolved into hysterical giggling. Tate snorted.  
“Long story short, we’re trying to get JD so drugged and wasted that he can’t feel pain- It’s hard to explain,” He said in response to her questioning look- was he blushing?  
“But yeah, I know you’ve got a secret booze stash, and- uh- we kinda ran out? So if we could borrow a bottle or two that'd be great.” Veronica raised her eyebrows.  
“I’m not even going to ask, fine. It’s in the old steamer trunk in the attic. Don’t drink the blue bottle, and you are so paying me back next Halloween.”  
Tate ran off with a grin and a quick ‘Thanks’ , JD in tow. Veronica would never understand those two, and she was positive she didn't want to. Right now she was content to pull a slowly reawakening Violet into her arms and press a loving kiss on the top of her head.  
“What was that all about?” Violet asked quietly, wrapping her arms around her and burying her face in her chest. Veronica sighed happily at her touch, resting her cheek on her blonde hair.  
“Nothin’ to worry about, just the boys being weird. C;mon, wake up. The movie’s just getting good, I think Mr.McMachoMan just chainsawed a shark in half?”  
“Nice.”  
“I know, right?”  
• • • • • • • •  
Three blunts, two blowjobs, and an entire package of painkillers washed down with a bottle of Violet's whiskey later, JD felt like the world was melting into a vividly colored taffy swirl and the only thing that was solid was Tate- and the imminent need to get his clothes off to expose skin he knew was covered in a mesmerising pattern of scars, hickeys, and bite marks. He swore he’d never get tired of seeing him naked, never get tired of marking up that pale flesh as his and his alone. It was astounding, really, the level of possessiveness and devotion he felt for Tate- it didn’t just rival what he’d felt for Veronica, it surpassed it in every way possible. Speaking of which, they had shit to do, kinky, disturbing shit that JD was extremely eager to get to- if only he could remember how to stand. Or walk. Or function at all, really. To be honest, he felt like a melted clay figurine. Very sexy.  
“Taate. Clothess. Get ‘em off.” JD slurred, half-heartedly tugging the hem of his own shirt over his hipbones before giving up and slumping against the wall with a giggle.  
They were in the bathroom again- somehow, JD couldn’t recall ever coming back upstairs, but whatever- and Tate was setting some stuff on the counter, occasionally glancing over at JD with an entertained grin on his face. God, he wanted to kiss every part of his face...and fuck his mouth. Later. He giggled again, throwing his head back so it clunked against the wall and sliding down it until his knees hit the floor.  
“What’s so funny?” Tate asked, placing the last whatever-it-was on the sink and sauntering over to where JD was kneeling and sitting on his haunches in front of him, cocking his head a bit like a curious, oversized bird.  
“Drugs,” He answered, smiling crookedly and waving a hand at his head, “An’ ‘ta fact tha’ you’re still clothed despite the fact that I specifically asked you ta’ remove ‘em.” Tate laughed and poked JD’s cheek, still grinning like he was a puppy that’d just learned to run and was crashing into walls.  
“Hold your horses. bronx. Did you know you get a very thick new york accent when you’re this wasted?”  
“Shut it and strip, wrevre gert- we’ve got e-eye trauma ta’….induce? Create? Just get naked.” He drawled. Tate laughed again, stood up, and pulled his plain black shirt slowly over his head, arching his back in just the right way to show off his leanly muscled frame and the line of red bitemarks JD had left there last week, much to his delight. He winked at him through the mussed blonde curtain of his bangs before wiggling out of his boxers and sashaying- there was no other word for it, there was so much hip swinging- over to the sink to grab one of the somethings with a metallic clink. JD watched him go with a very appreciative gaze, his eyes lingering on his ass a little too long.  
He was so distracted by this boyfriend's admittedly distracting body that he didn’t notice the scalpel in his hand until Tate had managed to pull his clothes off with some difficulty (He really couldn’t control his limbs very well) and hesitantly brought it up to his face.  
“You’re sure you want to do this?” He asked a little reluctantly, but JD’s mouth had already done dry at the sight of the pretty silver blade in Tate’s deft fingers. He knew that scalpel, it was only a piece from their little collection of dangerous objects but JD had seen that blade cut into flesh like it was butter, seen it spill blood in Tate’s hands, seen it cause pain and suffering upon whoever he chose and right now he wanted more than anything to feel that blade in him.  
“Yes, yes- fuckin’- c’mon, get on with it, babe.” JD said impatiently, scooting forward until the razor-sharp and still-raised blade was pressing an intoxicating line into the skin under his eye.  
“Alright.” Tate swallowed hard and held JD’s face still with his hand, stroking his fingers over his flushed cheek as he slowly, gently pushed the scalpel’s point into the dead center of his left pupil. He gasped, his voice breaking, and Tate jerked back a little, instantly paling.  
“D-does it hurt? Should I stop?” JD whimpered something he couldn’t hear and shook his head- well, shook his head as well as he could with a scalpel sticking out of his eye- so he continued, sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves and cut a little deeper, watching in fascination as clear ooze bubbled up around the slit. It wasn’t hard to do at all, really, the blade was deadly sharp and it was sickly beautiful in a way to see his iris being cut into red-black-and-brown ribbons.  
He cut his eye out like it was an art form, like he was a painter , making gorgeous brushstrokes of crimson and crystal run down the pale canvas of his cheek. It was breathtaking after he was done, though, Jason Dean was breathtaking, his left eye reduced to a gaping hole dripping his redder-than-red blood and he was trembling, his fingernails digging red lines into his thighs and his slim chest heaving with each shuddering, heaving breath that escaped him.  
“God…” He breathed, his heart skipping a beat at the sight before him. It was almost reminiscent of their first time together, what with the blood dripping and shining on the tile floors and JD’s quiet moans filling the otherwise quiet space as he reached up with shaking hands to feel where his eye had been. His remaining pupil was completely blown out with lust and drugs, the terra-cotta colored iris a barely visible rim to the pool of black.  
“T-tate- please, c’mon- p-put it in-” He groaned, his voice wreaked, cracking, and his single eye pleading at him more than his words.  
“Ok, ok- I’m gonna take care of you, baby.” Tate said, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss onto JD’s gore-streaked lips before standing up and lining himself up with his empty socket. As carefully as he could, he pushed inside about an inch- and JD fucking screamed out a moan, arching his back and clawing at the floor, almost biting through his lip because it was the most painful and heavenly thing he’d ever felt even though the drugs. He jerked back, shocked, and looked like he was going to pull and apologize but that was the last thing he wanted him to do right now. He grabbed his hips to keep him still, his breathing getting shallower and shallower until he was panting out a word that was supposed to he something like “Don’t stop” but was unintelligible. Tate didn’t answer, he didn’t need to do anything except nod and keep going until he felt something split in his skull and he was buried in his skull up to the base.  
He needed to reach out and brace himself against the wall because fuck, this felt better than anything else they’d done if only based upon the mind-melting, heady knowledge that JD trusted him, wanted him, loved him enough to let him do this- and Tate trusted him right back.  
That was almost nothing compared to what JD experiencing, though. He was a goddamn mess, moaning and whining loud enough to wake the dead and slumped forward boneless with his remaining eye half-closed and rolled back into his head. He could feel every inch of Tate’s cock in his brain, and it felt _so good_. The line between pain and pleasure was nonexistent, he was completely overwhelmed, drowning in a gloriously suffocating tide of blood and lust and the only thing that mattered anymore was making sure this feeling never ended.  
“Good boy,” Tate gasped as he began to move his hips, causing lewd, slick noises from his eye socket and forcing a strangled shout from JD, “You’re such a good boy for me, such a good little slut for pain. I-i could rip your guts out and you’d moan like a whore, wouldn’t you?” He groaned his agreement and HE picked up the pace, sliding in and out of him fast enough to splatter more blood across his face.  
Time seemed to blur into a solid mass, everything slowed down and sped up at the same time and Tate felt like the drugged-up one because he was tripping on the feeling of hammering into JD’s skull. He was losing himself in the sweet, sinful sounds pouring out of his mouth and the heavy smell of blood and sweat in the air until he was pulling out and coming all over his red-splattered face with a low groan. He clunked to his knees in front of a panting, shaking JD, guilt flooding through him as he took in his hiccupping breaths and the blood still oozing from the hole in his head and apologetically cleaning the red-and-white streaks off his flushed cheeks. JD grabbed his face and licked into his mouth, their tongues sliding together in a tired, copper-and-salt tasting dance as they came down from their respective power trip and high. Tate broke off the kiss first, a pinkish bridge of saliva connecting their stained and ripped lips.  
“You… you ok? Did you come?” He asked anxiously. JD snickered and pointed to his abdomen. He looked down and- oh. There was a great deal of come splattered across his pale chest and stomach in pretty swirls. Tate flushed.  
“I guess you enjoyed it as much as I did, then.” He quirked his eyebrow and squinted his remaining eye.  
“More than you, babe. Also, I think I’m going to pass out.” he croaked in an overly cheerful tone, sway dangerously and collapsing into Tate’s arms a few second later. He’d probably be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> guys i just realized these two would do such a fantastic version of 'our love i god' ok ill just see myself out


End file.
